


hold on

by goldpeak



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Artist Steve Rogers, Based on a song, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Suicide Attempt, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:19:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldpeak/pseuds/goldpeak
Summary: //helplessly praying the light isn’t fadingsteve had fumbled his hand back to bucky’s neck, feeling for a pulse- a sob escaping when he’d felt it, strong against his fingertips.regret was the emotion in bucky’s steely blue eyes as they’d made eye contact.“i’m sorry, stevie,” bucky had said. “i didn’t want to hurt you.”//hiding the shock and the chill in my bones.





	hold on

**Author's Note:**

> heavy trigger warning for suicidal attempt and self harm. read with caution.
> 
> i didn't intend for this to be so dark, but it just came out this way.
> 
> inspired by and lyrics borrowed from "hold on" by chord overstreet.

_loving and fighting, accusing, denying_

“you don’t _get it_ , steve.”

“ _you_ signed up for this, steve. you let them make you something else. i didn’t, but now i’m the one that’s still suffering.”

“i’m a monster. shut up, steve. you don’t understand. you can’t. i’m a monster, and i deserve to die.”

_i can’t imagine a world with you gone_

he had packed a duffel bag and disappeared while steve was on a mission.

he didn’t leave a note, or a message. he did leave the keys to their apartment on the kitchen counter.

he’d taken one of steve’s jackets.

steve had sobbed into one of bucky’s that night, once he’d realized.

_the joy and the chaos, the demons we’re made of_

steve had screamed himself hoarse that night as he was repeatedly wrenched from fitful sleep by horrific nightmares. every time, disoriented and afraid, he’d rolled over to reach out for bucky- but the other side of the bed, untouched and cold, hadn’t provided any comfort.

_i’d be so lost if you left me alone._

“please don’t be dead. please don’t be dead. buck, i swear to god, don’t you fucking dare-,” steve choked back a sob. “don’t you _fucking_ do that to me.”

his phone dinged as the voicemail was sent.

_you lock yourself in the bathroom_

steve went running. he went for a run, and ran laps until his legs were on fire, his chest heaving and sweat and tears mixed on his face.

and then he ran a few more laps.

it had been the first time he’d left the apartment in days. when he got back, the front door was open and he’d almost thrown up, on the spot, from all the conflicting emotions coursing through him.

“bucky?” he’d yelled, busting through the doorway and dropping his water bottle on the floor.

a soft groan met his call.

the bathroom.

steve didn’t hesitate before he shoved the door open, lock snapping-.

_lying on the floor when i break through_

blood. blood, so much blood, oh god-.

steve was silent as he dropped to his knees, cracking against the tile, and lunging for bucky’s flesh arm.

he closed his fingers around it, bucky cried out and the blood dribbled onto the floor.

steve ripped his own shirt off and tied it around bucky’s upper arm, tight enough that he ripped part of it. he watched his own tears fall onto his hands as he did so.

bucky had groaned and thrashed his head, weakly pushing steve away.

“let me go, stevie,” he’d said. “let me go. you know i have to.”

“that’s not fair, buck,” he’d sobbed, pressing a towel tightly to the slice in his arm. “not fair at all. not a chance.”

_i pull you in to feel your heartbeat_

he’d wrenched bucky into his arms, not caring as his own head had slammed the wall behind them. he tightened the t-shirt around bucky’s bicep and squeezed both hands around the towel, watching as the blood soaked through and bubbled up over his fingers.

he had dropped his head to bucky’s shoulder, wetting his hair with his tears and taking solace in the faint heartbeat he could hear from there.

_can you hear me screaming “please don’t leave me”?_

the bleeding stopped. steve’s tears didn’t.

he stitched bucky up on the bloodstained floor of their bathroom, as the latter’s gaze bored into him.

_hold on, i still want you._

he carried bucky into their bed and laid him down, bandage tight around his arm and bloodstained jacket swapped out for one of steve’s hoodies.

he’d burned the jacket in the bathtub later. it’d been one of his.

_come back, i still need you._

the sun disappeared from the sky and the stars came out. bucky, not having spoken since hours before, fell asleep suspiciously quickly.

steve spent the night with his fingertips brushing bucky’s neck, awake the whole time, in case the pulse disappeared like the sun.

steve didn’t want to see the stars.

_let me take your head, i’ll make it right._

“don’t do that ever again, buck,” he’d whispered sometime around 1 am, voice thick with emotion. one hand on bucky’s neck, the other tracing shapes on his side. “please.”

_i swear to love you all my life._

_hold on, i still need you._

it’d been roughly 4 am when bucky had twisted in steve’s grip, pressed his lip to the latter’s neck and murmured, “i’m sorry.”

steve had cried, again. bucky had kissed away the tears.

_along in this highway, your silence inside me_

_driving the nightmare i can’t escape from_

steve had passed out sometime around 7 in the morning, after the sunlight had coated their bedroom in a golden glow, and he was sure bucky was alive.

he woke up to an empty, bloodstained bed and a glimpse of dark hair on the floor in the bathroom-.

he’d screamed, and woken up again to a soothing murmur and calloused hands on his face.

_helplessly praying the light isn’t fading_

steve had fumbled his hand back to bucky’s neck, feeling for a pulse- a sob escaping when he’d felt it, strong against his fingertips.

regret was the emotion in bucky’s steely blue eyes as they’d made eye contact.

“i’m sorry, stevie,” bucky had said. “i didn’t want to hurt you.”

_hiding the shock and the chill in my bones._

steve had wrapped bucky up in his arms and pressed his nose to his flesh shoulder.

“not again, don’t leave me all alone again,” he’d murmured. “please.”

“i won’t, i’m sorry.” a sob. “i’m so sorry, stevie.”

_they took you away on a table_

_i pace back and forth as you lay still._

bucky had thrashed himself from steve’s arms later that morning, a scream dying in his throat and his metal hand tearing off his bandages.

“ _bucky_ , stop it!”steve had lunged to grab his arm, protecting the stitches. “stop it. you’re awake. you’re okay.”

when bucky had raised his head to look steve in the eyes, his own red-rimmed and teary, and said, “this is why. i’m tired of living like this.”

steve had felt the light leave his own eyes.

_they pull you in to feel your heartbeat_

_can you hear me screaming “please don’t leave me”?_

the cut healed quickly. enhanced super soldier, and all.

steve hadn’t left bucky once. not once.

the first time he had was after bucky had promised, promised on sarah rogers’ grave, that he wasn’t going to do anything.

steve came back with groceries and coffees for both of them and had almost cried when bucky had been sitting on the couch, just as he’d left him.

_hold on, i still want you._

_come back, i still need you._

steve had begun to draw bucky much more than he had before. bucky would be doing the dishes and steve would sit at the kitchen table and sketch him.

then he’d cook dinner and steve would keep sketching him.

bucky would flip through the sketchbook, sometimes.

“that doesn’t look like me,” he’d said. “i don’t look that good.”

“you do, buck, i promise,” steve had replied. “i’m teaching you to love yourself.”

steve had sketched bucky that night, splayed atop the sheets of their bed in sweatpants and nothing else. he’d focused on the metal arm, the only part of the drawing that he’d fully shaded.

he’d caught bucky looking at the drawing a few days later.

_let me take your head, i’ll make it right_

_i swear to love you all my life._

“i talked to shuri again,” bucky had said one night, sprawled across the couch with his feet in steve’s lap. “she said i should get a therapist.”

he’d left to go meet with one the next afternoon and steve had paced back and forth the entire two hours he had been gone.

he had hugged him tight, so tight, when he came back through that cursed door that bucky had to tell him to let go.

“super strength, steve. c’mon,” he’d teased, his steely eyes bright and steve had _beamed_.

_i just wanna hear you_

_saying, “baby, let’s go home.”_

late sunday morning, curtains pulled back. morning light spilling into the room, lighting up everything and shining off of bucky’s arm.

sheets pooled around the foot of the bed, and sweatpants-clad legs intertwined. bare chest against bare chest, dark hair tickling steve’s nose. calloused, careful fingers drawing shapes on bucky’s back. kisses ghosting along steve’s collarbone, neck.

birds chirping outside. the news playing on low volume on the TV opposite the bed.

heaven, home. all steve’s ever wanted.

_let’s go home._

_yeah, i just wanna take you home._

bucky raises his head, looks at steve through long lashes and leans up to press a needy kiss to his lips.

steve smiles as he kisses back, sweet and soft.

_hold on, i still need you._

_come back, i still want you._


End file.
